The Daughter of Darkness - Razed
by Nic-n'-Nyx
Summary: And you thought it was bad when YOUR keys were stolen. Imagine how Pluto and our ex-Titan buddies feel. Hate it when your siblings bicker? Try watching Greek and Roman relations turn into Sparta. Despise the game of chess? It's been raging on since the Second Titan War, and you've stepped into the endgame. (Sorry for that awful summary; I'm re-writing it later).
1. Prologue

**_PLEASE__ READ: _**_This is the fourth installment in the five-part Daughter of Darkness series. I suppose if you're a rebel you'll read on anyway. Good for you. If you're interested in the other three, head to our profile - Rebels, Rejects, and Redeemable, respectively. Thanks._

**_DISCLAIMER: _**_So Rick still owns PJatO. And HoO. John Rocco owns its art. Disney is responsible for publishing. Etc._

_**REVIEW RESPONSES (from Redeemable's Epilogue):**  
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**_Sir Hoden: _**_Well, here ya go! Hope you like it. The last wasn't a favorite of either of us, but we're glad we weren't total failures!_

**_Cbarbs: _**_ Haha I checked that for typos twice and didn't see that! And yes, OF COURSE we celebrated Halloween! I was Lawliet L and Nic was... was... Well, I'm not sure what she was, and I'll explain why in the AN. And, aha, I think it's probably for Nico's good that Will doesn't give him slack due to his past... Dang. I mean, we didn't pair him with Nico, but... dang. SPOT. ON. He's also one of my favorites to write._

oOo

In her lost-count-long-ago years, Abigail Abbkins had never felt so old.

She'd wondered if her most recent charges would do it for her. To see the kin of her kin, to find little echoes of the girls she'd glimpsed through an alcoholic haze, to watch them bounce and run and fight and live with spring and fervor and contemporary slang and sharp tongues… contrast would be a given, wouldn't it? But no. They'd made her feel more alive than ever.

It'd been a long, long time since Abigail had to watch after children. Even longer since she was trusted with them.

So what was it? What set a flat tension to the air, what cursed this old house into terrified silence?

It wasn't depression. She knew that well. Depression made everything impossible, and hopeless, and most of all stale. That was not what she felt now. No, now things had a new taste, but it was there, and it was sharp, and somehow she knew that the most basic fundamentals of her world had shifted off in some shady peripheral.

She was certain that she hadn't really aged in a while, not physically since she was about fifty, and not mentally since she was a teen. It's not like she was any sort of adult by this point.

Well. For one thing, 'old' could imply a wide variety of concepts – ancient, wise, withered, outdated, absurdly quotient, grand, aged, no longer of use, respected, moribund…

That last one was close enough, Abigail figured. Moribund. Never once, not even when wallowing in the depths of bottle and suffocating in empty anti-depressant 'miracle' containers, had she felt so near her end.

Logically, that was ridiculous. She knew very well that she wouldn't be dying anytime soon, not as long as she had charges to watch over. But while logic was definitely something to marvel at from a safe distance, it wasn't something to worship. She had learned to trust her gut.

Well. On most things.

Uneasy now, for no one ever had enough time to prepare themselves for the fear of Thanatos (let alone lost-count-long-ago teenagers), she set her mind to what she usually did when she felt slightly disturbed. She thought of her latest charges.

The biotic ones.

_Maybe I'm lucky I missed out on mothering Rose and Brenda. The worry I feel for these four was plenty. Imagine waiting for that demon to return home every night,_ she snorted. Until that night, she had thought she knew what it was like to be overwhelmed with emotion. Joy, despair, love, heartbreak.

But nooooooo. These crazy kids had outdone her lost-count-long-ago years all in one night. Christmas night, of all things. At first, she'd been irked that there'd be no proper family gathering. And then she'd started to wonder what on earth could be keeping Hunter and the others from free gifts and a plethora of meat on the stove and their favorite candies in the stockings. And then she'd begun to pace, so distraught that she had more trouble navigating the house than Neil, and then she'd seen the news stories about the earthquakes in LA…

Hunter was definitely Rose's child. Full of spite and spunk and devious brilliance. At the same time, though, she had been everything that Rose was not; kind, good-natured… a mother. Sometimes, Abigail liked to imagine that she had similar qualities buried somewhere inside her, not just Rose's darker ones.

Now, if Hunter could be traced to Rose, Bree might as well have actually _been _Brenda. Quiet, smart, concentrated (though not always on reality), observant. Brenda and Bree were both also Abigail's obvious offspring; an artistic eye, a resigned pessimistic mind, always striving for something they could never quite reach.

Brook was, as far as Abigail could figure, Hunter's daughter. And Bree's. Quiet but spiteful and brilliant but reserved. There were times when they didn't know it but they would sit with Brook somewhere between them and fall silent as the smaller girl began to play with Moon or fiddle with her hair or run her fingers absently through the carpet and there would just be silence, respect, casual observance, until she was done and the others were free to store the moment and move on.

Rarely did one sister move without pulling the other two with her.

To think that she could have lost all of them that night. Every white grin, every shy giggle, every stupid wolf, each beloved bow stroke.

That night, Abigail felt like a mother. Perhaps not a good one, not yet. But a mother, which was much more than she could've said at any prior point in time.

Oh, and to think that Maria's little boy could have gone with them-

Abigail chided herself. They were children, whether they liked it or not. But they were far from little…

…Whether she liked it or not.

Ice crawled up her spine.

She snapped out of her mind with a coldly practiced precision and listened for one, two, three minutes…

Whatever it was, house or demon or human(oid), it had stilled again.

She did not, though. She knew when something was wrong.

Slowly, she stood up and left her chair to rock alone. Through the guest room door. Into the kitchen. Her eyes seemed to jump without jumping, focusing on her peripherals without actually moving to focus.

Not one detail out of place. Thirty-four books on the right shelf, twenty on the left. Fifteen boxes in that corner, with one missing the tape. Nine pictures crammed behind them or hung drunkenly on the wall.

The kitchen, now, she had grown used to seeing changes in. The fridge had been opened very recently without her knowledge. She could tell by the slight hum that had to work harder to compensate for the heat and the way the door was not just closed firmly but pressed very, very shut. Slammed with an elbow, an afterthought in the rush for food.

Hunter.

Before turning to the living room, her eyes grazed the clock. Three in the morning. Then she took in the warm yellow light and all-but-muted television playing _A Christmas Story_ and the candy strewn across the carpet as if it'd exploded out of something. Amid the wrappers and chocolate and various crumbs and even a few forgotten Sixlets were two girls. Neil had fallen asleep in his chair, with his mouth hanging open.

Abigail sighed heavily. "I sure hope you don't expect _me _to vacuum this."

Hunter's mouth curled into a lazy grin as she lifted her head. "'Course not. That's what we got Nico for."

"Yes," Brook slurred her agreement, lifting up a tired fist. Next to her, a silver wolf smiled and nodded. On either side of this wolf were two smaller ones; one grey and one white as fresh snow. The new pups stayed sound asleep.

At Neil's feet, Antonio the Seeing Eye Dog began to snore.

"Hunter," Abigail said as she stretched, as if casual, to let them know if wasn't too serious. "Would you mind doing a perimeter check?"

The girls were suddenly very much awake. Hunter sat up and her golden eyes – they were Rose's but not Rose's – shone and then she was gone. Brook curled around her wolves and stroked the young ones reassuringly.

Sylvester bolted from beneath the couch to Abigail's feet. She scratched him behind the ears. Jealous, Teddy and Ozzy ran up and began to bounce around her knees.

"Down!" she said, and the dogs kept jumping. "Down!"

Sylvester, feeling rather bold on this night, tackled them for her.

"Good boy!" she chirped, and stroked his head.

Hunter chose that moment to return. "I didn't sense anything."

"Alright," Granny said, and this time yawned, though she was far from tired. "Just making sure we checked before we went to sleep."

"Sleep," Brook agreed, pumping an exhausted fist again.

Hunter brought her sharp eyes from her to Abigail. "…Where's Nico? I thought he was just spending a moment with her, but it's been an hour."

She'd been scared to go check on her own. Abigail mulled over this for a moment before dismissing her first horrible thought; no, it couldn't have been about Bree's health. She'd double-checked herself. And gods knew Nico would do something if he noticed something so much as seemingly out of place, and he knew his sister pretty well.

Besides, if Hunter suspected Bree of growing worse… She would have gone in. Immediately.

_So what kept you? What scares you, Hunter?_

_ Was Rose scared of the same?_

"He fell asleep," Abigail answered with a wave of her hand. "I was just watching them."

Hunter's sharp eyes glinted to the space ahead of her and she went to go look for herself. Any thoughts she'd had at the moment were as distant to Abigail as Pluto was now.

The planet. Not the god.

She tailed Hunter at a slower pace, not because Hunter was in a rush but because Abigail did have a few creaky joints, and she was old, and her stride was shorter. The blonde had halted in the doorway and was watching with that unreadable gaze.

Her eyes were no longer bright or sharp.

"Something the matter?" Abigail asked curiously, as if it weren't obvious.

A long breath, a much longer one than someone Hunter's age should ever have to give, pressed out of her lungs. "No. Not a thing."

She stared for two more minutes before leaving. Abigail returned to her rocking chair.

What was wrong, tonight? Her mind began to work not over space but across the timeline, everything since the children had returned.

Nothing odd about the shadows as they came in. Hunter would have noticed, even after the energy toll. Bree… In her state, maybe, maybe not. Nico, with his sister in such a state, should not have been counted as any different. But somehow she knew he would have known if something rode in on their tail.

Next had come the lecture. Not much of one. She still had to create a real, guilt-inducing rant for the day to follow, actually. What'd happened upon their arrival was a furious yell and from them a relief so great obvious it hurt her to watch it. Because they'd only had two minutes of Christmas Day left and they – especially Bree – were still in a lethargic recovery mode, Abigail had allowed celebration to commence.

She had eaten more than she'd like to admit. But hey, ham tasted great when she made it…

Neil had outdone her, though. She could always berate him for it instead of herself.

The hungry demigods had, however, put them both to shame. And then came the stockings, so that they could munch even more on even unhealthier things as presents were exchanged and opened. The television glowed so that they had the movie playing in the background to hide the wind of the storm outside. Abigail had taken a few pictures but not many, because she knew Neil couldn't see them. He hadn't looked too worried before the children came home, but when they did… When they did, he'd demanded one be hugging him at all times, and was constantly asking wise grandfatherly questions such as "Ever had a Werther's caramel?" and "Do you plan on saving the wrapping paper? I can _hear _what a whimp you're being! Kill it!"

Hunter had played chess with him. Nico, between watching over Bree and Brook, had supervised this with a very grim sort of curiosity.

Abigail was not sure what had happened between him and Hunter, and much less if it was good or bad, but she kept her hands off it.

It'd have been easy, in theory, for something to sneak in while they were making a mess beneath the Christmas tree. Even Abigail had allowed herself to be distracted, only checking now and then, and only once or twice going to check on Sylvester and the dogs to see if something had them spooked. They were her early warning system, and they hadn't failed her yet.

Was it possible they had, tonight, in all the excitement?

"Darlin'?" Neil asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

She glanced at him. He loomed in the doorway, half-open eyes unbelievably alert for a blind man. "Hey. Sorry."

"Did you want me to check, too? The things the kids wouldn't?"

"Wait until they're all asleep," Abigail advised. "I'll help ya."

Neil nodded and stepped far enough into the room to rest a thick hand on Bree's shoulder, after fumbling around on the sheets for a moment or two. Then he left. Antonio waited for him patiently in the kitchen.

…Yes, Abigail decided. If someone had gotten in, even as unlikely as it was, it'd been during the opening of presents.

When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be truth.

Present time had ended when Moon got too tired to pester Nico and Brook had fallen asleep, which tended to instantly tranquilize the others. Bree had nodded off not long after. After a moment of over-protective panic, Nico had decided that with her wounds she ought to sleep in a real bed and not slumped over between the couch and the chair.

Her bed was upstairs. Nico probably could have led or carried her up there, but he was a reasonable kid, as far as Abigail had seen. He did not risk it. And so five minutes later when he hadn't emerged from the guest room, she'd waddled in to investigate, and found…

Well, the same scene she was at now, only her mind had been peaceful then and allowed her to soak it in and start her idle rocking. Somewhere between waiting for her to fall back asleep and returning to the others, he'd reached his limit, and had the instinct to curl up on the bed next to her before passing out.

And so here they were. She was positive no one had entered or left while she'd watched them sleep. That, she was sure, she'd have noticed.

So it came as they reveled. Quickly, silently, skilled enough not to rifle the animals. What had it been?

And what had they taken?

Neil's footsteps sounded. She let her ears travel with them, each one, through the living room, into the kitchen, hearing the house speak and calculating exactly where each foot landed. Knowing the moment he stepped onto carpet, and with which foot he did so.

"They're asleep," he announced.

"Alright. Coming," Abigail said, and rose from the rocker once more.

Neil gazed in her direction, without blinking. "Hunter said to check on them. She said Nico's been out most of the day and shouldn't be so sleepy now."

Abigail gave him a strange look and half-wished he could see it. "You do know we keep the ashes in this room, right? Maria's are third from the left. Her blessing-"

"Well, yeah. But when Hunter wakes up…"

Abigail sighed. "We could tell them the truth."

He was quiet and patient as she came to her senses. She mulled it over before shaking her head and sighing. "Never mind. I've been watching them for ages – they're fine."

Neil shrugged and went to the dining room, the place he usually started. Abigail checked the guest room, because she could do so quietly, and the last thing they needed was one of the kids waking up. Especially Nico, who in this room wouldn't need but a moment of suspicion to discover the truth about their hoarding.

Her hand ran along the shelf with the urns. Nope, nope, nope… Off to the boxes. Not a speck of dust out of place. In the closet, things hung indifferently, the same old clothes she hadn't worn in years with the same old nostalgic and disgusting scents.

She pawed through them, then got on a stool to check on the tallest surfaces. Still nothing out of place.

As she started to search the kitchen, she heard Neil's heavy footsteps shuffling around. Only his footsteps. She could still remember, if she tried, the days when these searches would be accompanied with bangs and scrapes and startled exclamations from him.

She owed Neil a lot. She knew it. And he owed her. And there was no other person she'd rather share this burden with.

They covered all of downstairs quickly. Then upstairs they went, examining every bookshelf and windowsill, beneath every couch, behind every pile of junk, the hollow places in the wall, beneath every last layer of bedding. Inside Bree's violin case. In the secret compartment of Hunter's dresser.

There was something there that Abigail knew she wasn't meant to see. She closed it quickly.

"Abby…" Neil warned.

"I know. I'll check the storage room. Watch the kids." Back down the stairs they went.

Neil stopped in the living room. Abigail went on.

There were towers and towers of boxes standing in here, looking down on her stoically from the darkened seas of dust. She did not turn the light on as she moved about them.

Fingers trailed across bumpy, bulging cardboard. Eyes caught every glimmer of light against tape.

The nearest tower. Then the one to the right. Then the one behind. Not a box, speck, or molecule out of place.

Off to the bookshelves hidden in the back, then. She shoved aside two paper roof-scrapers and used her pointer finger to touch each and every spine.

_Yes… three here, all one-inch spines, then three two-inch, then a five…_

Her finger found empty space.

Oh?

These books had been obedient for seventy years. They had not moved. Which one…?

She knew, though, before she looked. There was a negative space of dust on the shelf, between a teepee of other tomes, innocent but so horribly _empty _it was like staring into a well-dressed black hole.

One book was gone. _Books,_ technically, but all bound to one spine.

She closed her eyes and ran her fingers along the covers of the surrounding volumes, comforting them, sharing their grief. But they could not possibly, in a million years, emphasize with hers.

Of everything in this house to steal, it had to be that book. Her first failure had to be now, as her children were about to march off into some stupid danger once again.

The feeling of age returned, very suddenly, and she was rocked by the sharp desire to have the books back. Not just them but everything – Rose, and Brenda, and the kids unscathed, and Neil's eyesight, and a cigarette. And most definitely those books.

But no. They were gone, and they weren't coming back.

The Syllabine Books were gone.

oOo

**Nyx: **So... This was done days ago. But as I've mentioned, Nic and I live a whole nation apart, so... (imagine me trying and failing to whistle, resulting in a lopsided raspberry noise) internet and phone problems means no communication. Nic hasn't read this yet. I waited as long as I could... But I promised it'd be up and so here it is...! Tada?

Oh. And y'all. You're lucky she ain't here. She had some questions. Nobody's interested in what Nico gave to Hunter that scared her so much? Something he _wrote_? He isn't a rhetoric, and that sure as heck wasn't a story. That was my idea, but showing you that scene was hers. And this one... aha...

I know you guys love Abigail/Granny. I thought it was time you got to know her. (Troll lol lol lol, lol lol lol, la la la...)

Hope you enjoyed. Give me a minimum of one more week to work - we came across a plot hole so big we've got to do some major re-figuring. I haven't even started chapter one. But trust me, despite the communication errors, we're working on it!

Oh. And. FNAF.

I WENT TO CHUCK E CHEESE'S AS A CHILD. I SAW THE BANDS. FNAF HAS REVIVED MY WORST NIGHTMARES. I WOULDN'T PLAY BUT THE BACKGROUND PLOT IS SO DANG GOOD. LOOK IT UP IF YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE THE DEMON MACHINES. DEATH TO BONNIE.

Hm, is there anything else y'all need to know? (thinks very hard) The letters in LOVE can be rearranged into LEO V. Next time you eat brownies, or cake, take a rhombus-shaped slice from the isolated center of the pan. For amusement and general good feelings about humanity, look up the vine "When Mom Isn't Home." Oh, and virtual stroganoff and snicker-doodle cookies to anyone who can find a minimum of three allusions to Gone (by Michael Grant) anywhere from the prologue to Rebels to the first three chapters of Razed! There's plenty there, trust me!

I think that's all. Time for me to go. 'Til Chapter One!


	2. Pernicious

_Disclaimer: If we owned PJatO and HoO, Nico would not be gay, Ethan would be alive, and the series would be nowhere near as awesome as it is (even considering Nyx's opinion of HoO). Rick Riordan owns them both._

_Review Responses:_

_**Cbarbs – Nyx:**__ You know my methods, Watson. __**Nic**__: Her THOUGHTS? No mention of the fact she's not aging? Or that she knew Maria? Or that she HAD THE SYLLABINE BOOKS IN HER HOUSE AND TOLD NO ONE? Or that she talked about HUNTER AND BREE'S MOTHERS? Do you know how much effort we've put into that back story? __**Nyx**__: Nic, I'm the one that wrote it, thus it's my fault. Calm down and go buy some milk. Take it out on the chip and pin machine._

_**Albedineity – Nyx: **__Heh… You've no idea how guilty I feel for making you wait this long…_

oOo

You'd think, after you make a mistake, eventually you'd learn from it. There are only so many times you'll put up with using the bathroom before checking to make sure there's toilet paper, you know? Or getting halfway through cooking dinner before realizing you're out of the main ingredient? Or slide on a wet wooden floor in socks beside the china cabinet? Or go through the lunch line without grabbing a fork? Or attempt to save the universe but wind up lighting multiple populated neighborhoods on a fire that grabs the attention of national television?

My family and I, in that sense, we're the definition of complete_ idiots_.

_"Why do we let her keep doing this?"_ Nico gruffed, baring his fangs and shaking dirt out of his fur.

_"I think this time was for their amusement,"_ I put in. _"Plus something about us smelling more like wolf and not, y'know, a monster's Oreos."_ Do you eat them split or whole? Suck out the creamy inside first or enjoy the crunch? Dip 'em in milk? Everybody's got a method. Apparently, it's blasphemy to not pick a side.

_"There are worse things to be transformed into," _Hunter snarled quietly from behind us. _"Flowers, for one."_

_"Hehe. Dandelion,"_ Moon bit her tongue. Dawn rolled her eyes at our antics but looked far from annoyed, instead rather focused on the street ahead.

A silver wolf at our head turned and snapped her long jaw at us twice. Time to focus.

I dug the pads of my paws into the grainy pavement and lowered my head, careful every time my ears touched the steaming pipes and machinery overhead. The smell of gasoline – a whole tank full, and for this bus, that must've been a lot – clogged my nose and made me gag. But I bit my tongue and crept along beneath it until I was in my place, with Brook on my left and my brother on the right. My tail swished back and forth, slightly more in his direction, until it tapped his and I settled uneasily between them.

Night, a heavy, dark grey wolf who was pointedly refusing to look at Nico, growled softly. We swiveled our heads and sat with ears alert.

He jerked his muzzle down the street.

We huddled close, warm fur cascading across one another's sides, and watched.

Creeping from beneath a car not far away, nails clacking on the pavement, glancing askance at the pedestrians, was a blue-grey wolf. It walked with a limp and a permanent scowl, as if it'd be a crime to miss the massive and misplaced yellow fangs.

"The sun is hardly gone," Moon hissed.

"They're on the move," agreed Hunter, golden eyes narrowed and tail swishing. "Wait for two more, then we'll follow. Try to act werewolfish."

Nico growled and flicked his ears in agreement. As he did, another strange canine came strolling out of an alley, snapping at the people streaming past on the sidewalk as he did. Then his paws hit the street and his claws were clacking, too, and he headed off before us. Away from the houses, towards the tourist part of the city. I couldn't see the obelisk from here, but I knew where it was, and so far had found it a loyal landmark.

I snorted the burning gasoline out of my nose. One more to go.

This one came from above us. Paws slammed onto the pavement inches from my nose. Nico bared his teeth and I flinched back and we froze there, too late, waiting.

The dog was in a hurry, though. Ash-colored paws immediately marched, once again, towards the obelisk.

Night shook himself vigorously and flowed out into the darkening street, keeping his head down but face forward. One ear back, one alert. A careless fang hanging over his lip.

Hunter's tail tapped the ground twice. Nico waited 120 seconds before following at a trot. He was lithe, not buff, so a scruffy, somewhat eager approach suited him far better than it would have Night.

Hunter tapped her tail once. I waited sixty seconds, and then slid out into the night.

oOo

The werewolves led us to one of the Smithsonian museums. The one about war, I can now conclude, having seen the contents of its basement that night.

Row upon row of shelves as tall as our bus had been wide, standing like soldiers in the dim industrial light, steadfastly awaiting the order to move out regardless the fact that they'd been left so long as to start gathering dust. Abandoned but hopeful, alone but undaunted, left behind but ready. Cargo included boxes, wooden boxes, statues, covered statues, metal filing cabinets, even a figurine set or two, gun safes, plane and tank models, pressed uniforms in vacuumed bags, all sitting still and flawless.

I looked around as we traveled (sure to jerk and snap and foam to disguise the act) to look for our leader, or our orders, or for a signal from my recon team. There was none. We just streamed in through a back door, and down the stairs, and flooded the towering ranks of the shelves.

The first ones in fought through the jungle towards the back. No wolf passed another; we simply filled in the basement as we came, stopping when we caught sight of the next one's tail.

We stood there, tense, beneath the buzzing lights that gave the shadows just the briefest definition.

My ears flicked, my nose twitched. _Where? What? Why?_

Then, from where Nico was, up ahead –

A tremendous tearing sound. Excited yips. The sharp snap of wood and the metal rattling of a disturbed shelf. Then a howl rose up from the ranks and thundered towards us like a wave. The sound growled in my chest and then it rose and I threw back my head until my ears brushed my shoulders and howled, emptying my lungs into the air, letting it ring until our cry was the only thing I could hear.

Real foam was gathering on my mouth now.

They bought my howl. As it turns out, this was a signal; the moment the wolf next to me had his head down, he was writhing and biting and slashing at a metal filing cabinet.

His teeth sliced straight through the corner.

Then, overhead… the sound of running footsteps.

_Do you want to be caught?_

But apparently they did, so I cracked my neck and attacked the nearest stack of papers as if they were fresh meat. I tore them up quick, and while my mouth was still soaked, so that no blood would fall and give me away. Then I moved on to a set of WWII figurines.

My jaws locked onto the board and I writhed as if I were in flames, yanking it from the shelf and scattering pieces everywhere. Then to the clever background, to the plastic planes, until there was nothing but shreds beneath my paws.

Overhead, the footsteps grew in number.

Crap. If this didn't start making sense soon, we'd never find…

Then, suddenly, the howl came again. This one wasn't as uplifting as it was menacing. It was tailed by echoing yips and barks and snarls.

Then the werewolves started to move.

They dropped their recreational playthings and bolted as if someone had just announced a plate full of bacon and dog biscuits ten aisles down. I eagerly spat out the disgusting plastic and joined in the rush.

Overhead, the footsteps… had stopped, actually. The notion was lost in the heat in the air and the brush of fur and grainy floor that just couldn't tear at my pads hard enough.

The pack was converging just aisles down from me now, but the excitement was so great that the path was already clogged to the point of standstill. I risked the attention and took to the shelves. It wasn't hard to hop among them – I wisely used the lowest levels only – and then creep along the boxes and shadows to the apparent point of interest.

A noxious concoction of anxiety, energy, and friction had gathered in the air, sharper than the stench of wolf sweat.

The floor directly before my shelf was bare, and exorcised by a light directly overhead. Lying in tatters there, like a sacrifice or perhaps a slain hero, were the remains of a box, a tattered sheath, and a sword of celestial bronze. It was tattered and irrevocably dirty, or so it looked, but gleamed nonetheless and owned not a spot of rust. Its ancient shine, though not pristine, was more like a calm and confident glow.

No wolf dared to get within six feet of it, not even those plagiarizing my epic ideas and sharing the shelf with me, or the grey one who'd obviously found it. In fact, most wolves weren't even looking at it.

They faced away, forming an impenetrable wall of fangs and claws.

Ice ran down my spine as I quite suddenly realized this meant I'd separated myself from both friends and escape, and that should the signal to move came now…

I'd have to be the one to take it.

This chill was not a bad one, not by any means. I made sure it was laced within my bones, because this thrill of the hunt, it was best used as an advantage.

Overhead, the absence of footsteps had become obscenely obvious, but I was much more concerned with shuffling and yipping and snarling at the wolf that accidentally bumped my tail – blending in.

Then, like a spear piercing flesh, a small but strong smell shot up my nose. It was a too-sweet reek fringed with the rank and echo of carrion.

_Underworld._ And it wasn't my brother's scent.

_Forget the stupid mystery sword! The Key!_

The smell grew strong, parting the air. Sure enough a part in the crowd itself became noticeable. Fear blossomed in my chest for a fleeting moment – good gods, the Key was so close – after so long – and not just the Key, but it'd be carried by the leader – I better pray Brook's disguise worked-

I calmed moments before the source of the smell came into sight.

And oh, lo and behold. In all logical sense, I of all people should have been devastated. But I was jaded with sorrow. At the sight of a half-blood, an enemy demigod, I felt only a jolt of the deepest intrigue.

He was tall, and somewhat pale but not too much so, with dark copper curls sprawled across his scalp but not into his eyes. Every last werewolf retreated quickly so that he could approach the sword.

The scent of carrion had become overpowering now. My nose quivered and I sneezed vigorously to hide it.

_The Key. And this random sword, whatever it is. Wonder why they want it. They've both __**right here**__._

There was another red flag there, but I did not investigate. Strategizing is not my job. Or, it wasn't, not then, not in that mindset. I'm still quite ashamed of letting it slide, but… eventually… I'd catch on.

I do my best work under pressure, but we're all prone to Stupidity.

The boy knelt down and picked up the sword, twisting it, examining it over the light. At this point, the carrion had smothered away death's sugar-reek, and the slavering anxiety in the room had raised the temperature several degrees.

"This is it," the demigod said simply.

"There's no way for _you _to know that," scoffed a man nearby. I hadn't seen him before, but I was not surprised – he was tall, lanky, and drowning beneath a curtain of oily dark hair. He was sitting among the other werewolves. The red eyes and fangs gave away his true species. "If this isn't it, or if its powers are false, you've killed us all."

The demigod gave him a cold look that I can only describe as almost Kronos-like, save for the fact that it was exceedingly impatient. "This isn't the sword Patroclus stole and died with, don't worry. Do you think Peleus would actually pass on a sword from the gods? Even to Achilles? No, no – _that _sword was the one that spent several hours rotting beneath a pile of dung," (and here he said a different word but I am trying to refine my bad habits) "and _this _is the prize Hermes gave him."

"Again," the werewolf snuffed, "how would you know?"

"You forget my latest reading material," the demigod droned, bored now and turning back to the blade. "Besides, Hermes himself said it was so, and even confirmed its powers. You just have to know where to look. We are wasting time."

At this particular moment he happened to stride past me, and like the other wolves I cringed back, but my eyes stayed on him…

And at the same moment, I felt a jolt, the sweet taste of magic and the crawling of crimpled tin foil across my skin, something strong but distant… and the demigod leveled the sword at my throat.

"Where's your leader? Kronos's girl?" he asked, teeth gleaming with effulgence, even in this storm cloud-colored place.

Even if I'd meant to answer, I could not have. The shock of magic was far too strong, still like a freezing shock and making goosebumps ripple under my fur.

He sword inched higher, its metal nowhere near as cold on my skin as what was surging throughout. "…You know what? That's fine. I think I know how to draw the upstart _dog _out."

I remember thinking, _This guy is really going to spoil all that hard work we put into Brook's dialect…_

(Shush it's a lie we tell ourselves so it's convincing when we tell it to Granny).

Before the demigod could strike or I could lunge, a black bullet severed the proximity between us, slamming into the foul-mouthed boy and the sword was ripped away, making a hideous sound against the concrete.

The black wolf locked its jaws around the demigod's throat and missed, instead getting the shoulder. That was fine. He had barreled in with more than enough momentum to bash the kid into the floor and land on top.

"_Nico-_" I warned, _"-the Key, it's not-_"

"_I know! Get_-"

The werewolves surrounding us battered the air with howls so loud the shelves shook and burst into furious motion.

I snarled and pounced onto the demigod's legs, beside my brother, and whirled to face the crowd. Or, my half of it. It was a wall of teeth and red eyes moving alarmingly fast for a wall-

-It washed right past us.

I turned to watch in astonishment, peeking between Nico's lowered ears and bristling nape. _"…What…"_

Above us, the roof made offered up a last tortured keen before it fell in.

Fire erupted behind the massive chunks of plaster and roasted their crumbs as they cracked and scattered atop a shelf the next row down. Metal bent and shrieked but held.

From the hole, smoke began to leak in.

Oh. So that's why the footsteps had vanished…

I threw my head back and let out that relieving howl again, and several answered, and to real relief I recognized each one.

"_RUN_!" I barked over Nico's furious snarls. "_GET OUT_!"

"_SCOUT AND REGROUP_!" came Hunter's answer, easily heard above the growing roar of flames.

Before I could go through the split-second process of realizing she was cutting time short and then that I trusted her too much to worry anyway, a sharp cry came from my brother. I turned to watch him crash into a shelf.

I whirled on the demigod, who was on his feet now, and focused on Nico. "Oh? Did I make you mad?"

I was at his throat before he could finish.

He became a writhing mass – heavy, actually – beneath me as I struggled to keep a tight hold on his skin. I'd felt it squish and my teeth sink in but this thing was fast, and cold, and almost nonexistent-

-Like a _shadow_. He vanished from beneath my paws and appeared between aisles, sprinting away.

Nico was already crouched and ready to bolt off, a feral growl bursting from his lips as he sprinted after him. I stretched my legs and bolted after him.

The crash of another section of ceiling reached my ears, from somewhere far to the right.

And then a groan, so close it was deafening.

I skidded to a halt and watched the brilliant rain come bursting downward, sending plaster everywhere and igniting with a very singed scent. The air snapped from cool to stifling in a heartbeat. Flames and rubble and broken glass and what may have been a gun or two split and danced across the floor in front of me.

For a moment, I had almost shadow traveled. Then I remembered that my magic didn't always clash well with Brook's. I wove off to the side, tracking Nico's movements through my ears and hoping I was running parallel to them between the shelves that were starting to slowly tumble.

A warning bark came from somewhere up ahead, sharp and pure. Hunter. She was closing in from the other side.

By now, a buzzing had started in my ears, and it wasn't just the fire and the sparks.

There! Nico and his target spat out of a nearby aisle, nearing an exit rather quickly.

I smiled, feeling the fangs pierce my lip. A silver wolf had appeared on my left, and a gold was stalking through the shadows about ten aisles down.

The black wolf lunged, teeth sinking deep into the demigod's shoulder again and sending them toppling past the door and into the next shelf. It rattled but held.

Then another startled yelp came from him, and the demigod absconded alone, slipping through the exit and into the sunset.

Sunset? It'd been dark when-

"_Stop_!" Hunter's bark sounded, and I halted in the threshold, pads gathering a painful amount of grain. "He's out in the shadows now. If he can shadow travel, it'll be easy and almost costless for him to do it out there. We-"

Behind her, a massive chunk of ceiling – the size of a large bedroom – crumpled inward. Fire was battered in the wind as they fell but held, and quickly latched on to more teetering shelves.

Speaking of which. Nico was slipping out of the one he'd crashed into. I watched as it fell, only this was from a slice in a support beam, clean and intentional. Nico himself had a similar cut on his left flank but much more pathetic.

He squinted at us, eyes narrowed, and that's when I realized the smoke that was gathering.

It stung in our eyes, and blocked our noses, and seemed to be smoldering. I blinked and choked.

Hunter's ears flicked. "_This way. We're not exiting the same way he did_." Then she turned and bolted, ears flat and nose to the ground but as fast as a wolf can run.

We raced along silently on her tail.

oOo

We emerged to a scene just as chaotic.

Hunter burst through the doors and onto the concrete. The heat of the fire pounced fecklessly on us as we made it those last searing, half-blind, suffocated yards out onto the grainy asphalt.

There was a snake waiting for us.

I don't mean rattler. Well, I do, but not the size you're thinking. This thing definitely would have depressed all those macho five-footers Leo complains about. The thing's head was the size of a minivan.

Let me tell you, seeing a set of handsaw-sized fangs come flying at you like that will wake you up real quick.

"_Out_!" Hunter barked, and we scattered. There was an amazingly loud _clap!_ as the serpent's jaws shut neatly on air.

Without waiting, it whirled and chased the closest one – Nico, at that moment.

"_Brook_!" he yelped as he dashed for his only savior, a nearby car. No way he could outrun the snake, but if he got under that…

"_Breaking the spell_!" Brook agreed, skidding to a halt next to me.

Before he made it, the snake lunged.

The creature that ducked and slid beneath the rocking, very bitten car was not the same one that slid out the other side amid the shattered glass and twisted metal. It went in with paws and came out with long fingers, a sword, and a gleam of silver glaring from his right hand.

The eyes were the same, though.

There was a flash of shadow as he rushed for the car again and then he was on its other side, momentum flinging him at us with alarming velocity. His sword didn't make a sound as it sliced through the snake's neck.

We stood there, human again, looking out over the city. The Smithsonian was not the only thing on fire.

Nobody said anything. We could feel, here between cobblestone and brick and marble, the heat baking us there. Looking at the column of bright orange light thrusting up from the flames and buildings, piercing the night sky that for the life of me could have just been a second sunset.

Not even Nico, whose eyes were focused on the far side of D.C., where we'd sensed the Key moments before the Underworld demigod attacked, did anything.

As we watched, three demons – two Earthborn and a Ventus – ran past us on the street, flailing and hooting, and completely forgot to notice we were standing there.

"We aren't splitting up," Hunter decided firmly.

"But the city is big," Moon (who was still a wolf) whined. "We cannot take it back."

"We don't have to," Brook snarled. "We just need to cut off their head. Like the snake. Where was the Key, guys?"

Nico and I pointed wordlessly.

"Stay close, conserve magic," Hunter instructed, and off we went.

oOo

The city was a mess.

Human crowds, demon crowds, entire neighborhoods on fire. Nothing too nationally important, aside from the museum, but plenty of houses. Around the Key and not.

I knew the moment we left that alley that it was a losing battle. But, long before then, I knew we'd be fighting it anyway, and without regrets.

The scariest thing, it seemed, was that most demons did not pay us mind. They always did. Some in our past had gone so far as to cross half the nation to close down on our house, but tonight?

Tonight, we only had to fight the ones we came across directly. None seemed to be bent on tackling the only demigods, the only trained enemies, in the vicinity – just happy to beat the crap out of us if we came too near.

Moving past the U.S. Capitol building was hardest. That green? Perfect spot for a muster, battle, rendezvous, you name it.

For demons and humans, though the latter seemed to have been scared away for the most part.

"Go! Go!" Hunter yelled, meaning _don't pick fights_. We raced for the bottleneck alleyways beyond the grass and pond.

We were two steps into our sprint when the first monsters dove from the red and black shadows at our heels.

Hellhounds were among them, meaning the Key was definitely this way.

Instantly, they were swarmed with wolves.

"Go! Go!" Hunter called, and the wolves followed quickly, Dawn and Moon at their head.

The monsters turned to look and greet us like some sort of over-excited paparazzi.

I took the left flank and Nico the right, leaving Brook between us with no worries of a melee encounter and her bow strung. The wolves behind. Hunter ran ahead, Anonymous clearing a path. We were running in the wake of her monster dust, and between the golden streaks of her magic.

A Ventus swooped down on my side, lightning flashing between its eyes. It crashed into her barrier and slowed almost comically, leaving me plenty of time to strike it with shadows. Piercing eyes eyes and a momentary gleam of a claw would swing forward through the dusk and that was my cue to swing Întuneric. To slam the blade into each flitting shadow so that I felt it jerk in its targets and eventually felt the ache in my clenched knuckles.

The noise… It was loud enough that I could hear it over the fritz of the Key and the buzz of lost lives.

It was still, though, a one-sided dance. I didn't have to dodge nearly anything.

After our sprint from Independence Avenue to Constitution Avenue, we were lost in stores and, later on, houses. Running down streets and across alleys like spiders across a vast web. Hey, four people means eight legs – I hope we certainly looked as creepy to our enemies.

There were a lot of them here. Once, when we were between shops and homes, a group of ten Earthborn – clunky, loud, heavy Earthborn! – surprised us from the next street. The first sign of them was a rock the size of a stop sign missing Brook's head by mere millimeters and destroying the window behind her.

A calm Hunter and a hardly constrained Nico flashed through their ranks. Anonymous large and obvious and swinging, Mνήμη always quiet but tricky at my brother's side. I shadow-traveled to their other end and let them have the cold remnants of the trip through my Stygian iron blade. The first went down easy, but it got the attention of the one to my left, and the swish of that massive bolder gave his attack away.

I whirled before it was registered and the rock whizzed past, and as my sword slashed through a clay throat I realized something was wrong.

I hadn't heard it land.

I turned and there, in the street, was a gaping tear. Like Cerberus had gotten angry and taken to the street with his gigantic claws.

The Key had been this way.

As I watched, more Earthborn were crawling from the gap – yes, that was how they'd snuck up on us – and still more could be heard romping through the streets around us. Time was running out.

"Onward, my minions!" came Hunter's – and very clearly Hunter's, might I add – cry after we'd cleared at least a path, and on we went again between burning swathes of houses.

It was like a gauntlet. Stifling, cornered, stuffed with an ever-changing light. The orange that cast deep shadow and such sharp glow. And to either side of us, no matter where we were –

Screams.

They were brighter than the flames. Hotter, too – Nico and I happened to be flinching simultaneously, feeling phantom burns, surprised each time to find that our skin had not turned waxy and black and bubbled like tar. Confused as to whether or not we were really choking on smoke or if the memory wasn't ours.

At least, not yet.

On one street, Venti were swarming around a house's shattered windows, fighting over any entrance. Few were clever enough to seep in via cracks in the roof, which had appeared and displayed dazzling eruptions of crisp sunset. From inside, there was the sound of tableware crashing, and then of a gun being fired. Then just the crackle of flame.

"Hunter," Brook whined, pulling closer to Moon even as we battled werewolves just outside. Just a small party, easy to push through. Nico and I could handle it.

"I'm slowing the flames down as much as I can. We'll do the most good wherever the Key is, not here," was all she said, and we were off again.

oOo

"Here."

One word from my brother, and the whole party came to a halt.

"Are you sure?" Hunter breathed, eyes like floating embers among the glowing ash that drifted across the streets now. The damage only got worse as we'd headed towards the edge of the city.

"That or the demigod from earlier," Nico hissed. Then cussed loudly. "There's been too much death tonight to get a clear reading." He looked at me.

I closed my eyes and listened, sniffed gently, searching for something beyond the musky tang of burnt wood and the snap of flame and the screams and the sirens and the helicopters now overhead. Something sweet. Something…

"I-I-I'm not sure, but I vote demigod."

They did not have to ask how not-sure I was; we were out of options, anyway. The fire was cutting us off more and more frequently. We were being trapped. Even now, as we stopped to converse for five seconds, there was another snake that spotted us and was coming our way fast.

Moon saw it and growled. Dawn burst quiet suddenly with a vicious snarl (and not in the snake's direction; seemingly at the flames) that wrenched a nervous jump from her brother, Howl.

The snake hesitated and flicked its tongue, tasting us from fifty feet away.

No. Not tasting us. It knew us – to stop, something new had to-

"Incoming," Dawn warned, and not about the snake.

"Talking doggie!"

We whirled. Running through the street, as if oblivious to the collapsing house not six feet away, was a girl of about seven. Wide green eyes and hair so red it shone with a light all its own beneath the fire. There was delight in her eyes and so much excitement packed into that small body that she was committing manslaughter on her teddy bear.

She was so cute, but terror shot through me at the sight. I didn't think the tragedy around us could be more real than reliving dozens of awful memories, but seeing her there, and so happy despite this…

Somehow, this was hundreds of times worse than the crowds of panicked adults or even full families. That and the fact that she came running _right at us_ almost made me wonder if she was a monster.

"She heard?!" Dawn gasped, incredulous. Then she snapped her jaw shut.

Nico swerved and cut the girl off, kneeling with his hands on her shoulders, so that they were eye-level. In one smooth move he'd positioned her there and snapped his fingers. The wind changed direction and grew thick with Mist. "There is not talking doggie," he explained calmly. "You need to go find a fire and rescue group. There's one down the block. Right there, just around the corner. Run. They'll help you find your parents. Huh? Wanna go find Mommy and Daddy?"

She shook her head at him. "No, silly! I want to play with the talking doggie! It's more fun than watching them fight, and they don't even know I'm gone. They won't worry. I'll go home soon, I promise. No harm done. Doggie! Here, doggie doggie!"

"She snuck out," Brook realized. Her face had paled.

"Smart girl," Hunter approved.

"_Move,_" the girl told Nico insistently. "Daddy and Martha won't worry, I promise promise. Especially not Martha."

He cast a glance at Hunter, mouthing two words. _Half-blood_. If the Mist didn't work and her mother wasn't Mommy…

In this moment of communication, the girl slipped away from him and ambushed Dawn with a hug, exclaiming, "Good doggie! Good doggie!" over and over.

Nico looked at us helplessly. He wasn't sure how to get her away from here.

"Anyone want to help the talking doggie?" Dawn offered.

I glanced behind them froze. "Sssh! Don't make a move!"

"It's in striking distance," Hunter explained, referring to the massive rattler gazing dazedly in their direction.

Nico stiffened. "…Dawn, slowly lead her this way. Slowly."

She sighed. "Wanna follow talking doggie, kiddo? C'mon."

That's when the girl saw the snake, see. And she did what people normally do, despite the way she'd laughed at the flames earlier. She screamed.

The snake's eyes were suddenly very alert and its mouth snapped open and shot forward like a massive pink wall-

-And it slammed into a massive black wall of shadow.

I flicked my wrist and the wall snapped forward into it, leaving it stunned for just a moment.

That was all Hunter needed. Her eyes lit up and the snake's movements jerked and then froze. "Go!" she managed, voice strained.

Nico was happy to oblige. The girl and Dawn ran to Brook as Nico shot past and took two clean swipes. Frost gathered on the neck and back of the skull where his sword had touched them.

"I wouldn't-" Brook began, but at that point another pack of lost survivors ran past, making a lot of noise and closing us off from the street and the dead snake. Demons must have been herding them; there was no other explanation for their thick numbers.

_If they have enough demons to start gathering snacks…_

"I can hear it now," Nico wheezed as he barely cleared the herd's first footsteps. "It's the Key. It's here."

Brook secured the girl in her arms as we pressed against the sidewalk, beneath the collapsing house, and let the crowd go through. Baking in the flames and the fear. I closed my eyes again and felt around for the shadows.

Flickering. Wild. Broken but unbelievably dark, amazingly strong, crawling along buildings and roads and up into the sky, growing more powerful the farther I felt. They had a very strong taste that made it seem my tongue was broken for not feeling something in my mouth. Like I'd just eaten waaaaaaay too many mints.

And there, a block away – amid the flames, where there should have been nothing-

"A block to our left, one behind," I coughed, waving smoke out of my face.

The things chasing the crowd turned out to be a couple Venti. Shadows from me took care of them and we quickly ran from the groaning house, stepping on ash and once a body (despite Dawn's best efforts, I'm sure) to reach the street before the sliding began to buckle.

We ran straight into the mouth of another massive snake.

Nico, who had brought up the rear of our patrol, had the most warning and reacted the fastest. The snake's pink mouth – pink wall, geez could that thing open wide – rushed at me but stopped when I blinded it, and then toppled to the side just moments before Nico landed next to us again.

Brook whirled on him now. "STOP that!"

Nico scowled. "Stop what? We've got to get a move on! The longer we wait, the farther the Key-"

The girl laughed, which was an instant mute button to all of us. She giggled and pointed at the twisted serpent. "It's not dead."

"You seem awfully cheery," Dawn muttered.

She was right, though; the snake still thrashed, and its mouth snapped open and shut blindly, and new scales were sprouting from where it'd been sliced.

Behind us, the house finally gave way, sending flaming wood and shingles sprawling out towards us. Nothing reached this far, though; Hunter put up another shield.

"We'll run," she said calmly. "Night? You're the biggest wolf. Carry the girl."

"I'm _Annie_," said girl spat angrily, a finger lost in her red hair and the other hand still smothering her stuffed animal.

"Alright, Annie. Night can't talk but he's still a good doggie, okay?" Golden eyes – that was all we could see of her now – gleamed through the smoke in my direction. "You guys slow the snakes down on our tail. I'll clear whatever's in front of us."

"Snakes?" I asked, accenting the plural.

The shadow of my brother, ashamed, pointed towards the demon. Rather than rejoining the head to the neck, a new snake was forming from each piece. "_There's probably a third, because I did the same to one earlier,"_ he snarled through voiceless shadow-language.

Speak of the devil… aha…

"RUN!" Hunter yelled, and we ran. The snake's lunge – from the broken house – was slowed by her shield just enough to allow us to dodge, though its fangs still tore Nico's jacket. Then we were nothing but the pumping of legs and the swing of heavy weapons and the sound of the footsteps, across the asphalt and concrete and once some random cobblestones or perhaps a street drain, too, through the thick blackness of smoke.

I heard the scrape of metal as Nico trailed his sword behind him. Moments later, he called, "Got one stalled!"

Any corpse we happened across after that was up and moving, and not just against the snakes. Some went off on tangent streets to find others, or maybe into houses to seek out the ones still screaming inside.

The snakes, now, we had no prayer of outrunning them. The fact that Nico had to _stall _one made it clear, and when massive heads started launching out of the fog, it was confirmed.

I ducked low and shoved Întuneric up and through the soft skin beneath the jaw as it struck, and thank the gods I had the shadows to help with speed, because it's pretty dang hard to dodge a snake bite. I wrenched my sword free and ran towards the left back corner of the group so that I had more places to strike and direct the snake. Judging by footsteps, Hunter was ten feet ahead, and Nico ten to the right.

Brook and the pack between the two of us.

Dawn and Star, bundles of white and silver, blurred through the smoke and took stride beside me. Their paws were just as rough on the ground as my boots.

The snake's shadow grew closer again, flying through the suffocating ink-

I slipped to the right and it missed not just me but the whole group, and left its entire flank open to Întuneric.

I smiled, because I rather liked this moving dance, and drove my sword beneath the scales. To my credit, I managed to keep the blade angled right, so I got in a nice long slash before the titanium scales sent Întuneric bouncing back at me.

I could feel in the way the sword dragged that the cut was deep; sure enough, the snake began to thrash. Suddenly its hide was not so straight and easy but quick and massive and writhing in about fifty ways at once.

Instinct drove me back, and fast. Star came with. Dawn dodged the thin tail – it was nearest to her – and took a longer route around it. I whirled, listening for the formation, and trying to find my place again-

-The head came swinging around and straight back at me, two feet away by the time I'd noticed.

I all but fell into the icy shock of shadows, shivered as the red flame washed over me, and felt the percussion slam into my chest when I fired. The cold was crisp and fresh, and it sharpened my senses, and while I was at it I sped across the back of the formation just to make sure we were all covered. We were; to give us a slight advantage I circled Nico twice and knocked his second snake back as I did. His glaring orange light beamed at the rally and I returned to my place, satisfied now that all three reptiles were well behind us.

"Just up ahead!" I called to Hunter, shortly before choking on the smoke. It was clearer, now, but still sharp in scent.

She had stalled, though, I found out with shock when I pulled up beside her. "In which burning house?" she asked for clarification.

We were facing a row of houses, surprise surprise, rotting in the flames.

"Five or so seconds before we got company," Nico warned, his bright, fire-lit eyes focused somewhere in the distance.

"Alright. Stay-"

The house exploded.

The first thing I felt was the heat and then the light, light, light, hotter than the fire itself, slicing through the shadow form I'd run for and shriveling every inch of me. Everything else is a deafening blur at that point.

The next thing I can clearly recall is peeling my cheek off the asphalt, blinking the light spots and stars away, and realizing by instinct that an explosion should have killed every last one of us. Which led me to cataloging myself. Joints worked, torso bruised but alright, skin scraped and bleeding but still functioning just fine. My right shoulder was poisoned by a deep internal ache, but it, too, worked, and it didn't bother me much.

_So what…?_

"Roll call!" Hunter's voice drifted from somewhere.

"Brook!" from the right. "And all wolves!"

"Nico!" from the left, followed by a panicked, "Sis?!" that did not annoy me as it once had.

"Bree!" I answered, but was drowned out by a roar.

Not a hiss. A roar.

"Annie!" called the little girl, excited by the game. Then she shrieked. "Mr. Cuddles! I can't find Mr. Cuddles!"

"Brook, roll!" I warned as a black shape came barreling in her direction. She didn't need to be told. With a pained scream, an eagle rose from the thick wood and other charred debris and into the sky.

The small black dragon that'd charged us from inside the house could have taken off after her (it was rare to see a drakon or dragon with wings, but Gaea was old, and had quite the arsenal I guess) but instead whirled at the sound of my voice.

"_You_."

Dragons do not usually speak to me, but the turn of the head and flash of claws and the pouncing position were in fact _very _familiar, and it got me up and running again.

The smoke was just thick enough to hide its eyes from this distance, thank gods.

"Snakes!" Nico warned as I ran towards where I'd heard Hunter, but I couldn't pay it any mind. I was too busy dodging spurts of green stuff – fire? Acid? – while slashing at the slender shape with every ounce of fury I could latch into the shadows.

Luckily, the wolves' hunting howl answered him.

"Hunter?!" I yelled.

"Here," came a calm answer as she swooped in seemingly out of nowhere, scythe raking up the dragon's throat with a sharp gleam of gold before spurring away through time warp. The monster screeched and whirled in her direction, but by then I was on its other side and slamming shadow after shadow into its skull.

"_Stop_!" it screamed, now, horse-like head snapping to one side and then the next under my assault. The back arched and wigs flapped and tail lashed from side to side, fanning smoke everywhere. "_Stop! Please! I – I-"_

"Behind you!" Hunter warned as golden streaks secured the wings in place.

It gave me enough time to dodge the snake, with the help of the shadows once more. The magic was starting to tug painfully on my chest now.

"Switch!" she called, but not aloud, more with the way I could hear the balls of her feet crunch on the grainy ash, and she charged ahead while I rolled back to where the dragon was still trying to break free. Bits and pieces of it were frozen with her magic. I cringed, not even wanting to wonder how much energy it was taking to hold the stallion-sized monster there.

"_Help_!" it cried as I slammed its back down, with sword and shadow, forcing it to lay there amid the wreckage.

Anonymous became a gleaming circle as Hunter spun almost daintily around the striking snake's head, and then a streak as a touch of time-warp sent her spiraling over it like a ridiculous hurdle. But the blade made a satisfying sound across its spine, and the creature's back end curled before stilling at last. The front one forth of it still lashed but got nowhere.

"_Help_!" the dragon called as I leveled my sword to the throat, giving a massive spasm.

"Listen to yourself," a voice sneered. The Underworld demigod. "What am I, your nanny?"

Two very, very bad things happened then. As if we weren't screwed enough.

One; the dragon broke free. There was a blink of shadows and suddenly it stood before me, unbound, wings spread wide and head held high, green fire flickering between its teeth and onyx claws like the gem of pressed smoke.

Two, the demigod made his position known by beheading Hunter's snake.

"_I'm sorry, kiddo_," the dragon hissed.

Then there was that crunch, the toes on asphalt again, and Hunter was there, knocking the thing aside with Anonymous. I bolted for the snakes.

Now that I knew the method, I'd just have to mimic it, but with shadows-

Speaking of such, there were quite a few now slicing right for me. I flinched and parried them aside as I sprinted for the two oversized reptiles.

The demigod sneered, his sword aimed in my direction continuously as I ran. Then he was in the shadows again, too.

Blackness slammed across my vision as I slipped into that realm fully, punctured by the four red flames of the snakes – the other two were near my brother and Brook, and with a start I realized Nico hadn't moved since I'd heard his voice last – and the orange of us and the blacked whirlwind of flame that marked my opponent. I probably looked the same to him, cloaked in shadow.

He hit hard, but I was much faster, and I had a lot more power behind my strikes. Parry, thrust, slash, slash, burn, - there, strike!-

We tumbled out of the shadow realm together, his sword at my throat and mine jabbed somewhat uselessly into his side. He smelled strongly of sweat and a dark, dark magic that I'd only ever sensed from Tartarus. I jerked and there was a hot sting as his blade sliced my sore shoulder and I snarled, batting him away with another blast of magic.

He rolled off and then to his feet, that gleaming blade still unharmed, with a knowing grin on his face.

Then a silver arrowhead burst from between his eyes, and he fell.

I gaped at Brook, who was kneeling and clearly damaged but very much alive. Red light outlined her silver jacket neatly and because of that, from head to toe to upper limb to lower limb, she and her seemed to be free of soot stains.

But her eyes were wide and her hand was jerking through the air, towards Nico – she'd left him to come help me, and by the way her kneel was slightly to the side, changing forms had already ruined her mobility.

I didn't waste time getting to my feet, and as I did I could hear both him and Annie yelp, but not the snake's head that crashed into me from behind.

A moment's mistake, a stupid one, but lethal nonetheless. My head hit the pavement hard for the second time that night and I remember my last, extremely dazed thought being a combination between a ruder sentence for _I've really screwed up_ and _I'm going to die_ but not recalling exactly how or why.

A few extremely long seconds later, I'd regained enough consciousness to wonder why I wasn't dead.

Once again I scraped myself off the road and crawled aside before looking up. I was greeted again by the massive snake's head, mouth wide, fangs outstretched and gleaming at a sickening angle maybe four, five feet from where I'd lain. But it _stayed _there. Like a statue or a movie on pause. After a full night of watching this thing move so fast it was naught but a blur, I found this funny, and giggled before slicing its spine – sloppily – with shadows.

Through the smoke and painful haze, I could see the others, too. One had been stopped on its way to Brook, debris flying up all around its flattened belly. Two were surrounding Nico. He was on the ground as he'd been since the house blew out but very much awake and alive, cussing to himself, because the serpent that'd lunged for him was quicker and his head was fully in its mouth. He made no move to get up.

"Hurry!" Hunter gasped as if she'd just been struck. "I can't-hold-"

"Impressive," I muttered, staggering to my feet and searching for the dragon. It was gone; must have shadow traveled away before she froze everything. The space before where she crouched with arms spread wide was bare. I stumbled towards where Nico was, rubbing my forehead with my palm. His next. If she broke the magic now…

She screamed as the snakes began to twitch. The least dangerous one – the one twenty feet from Brook – suddenly burst into motion again.

_Styx!_

I flung shadows at the blur that was Nico's snake and missed spectacularly, beating the crap out of some dislodged shingles five feet away. But that was all I had time for, even as its jaws were sliding shut, because the one on Brook was going fifty times as fast-

As I whirled, just barely reaching shadows with my hand, the snake I'd paralyzed inched itself just close enough to snap at me. Fangs caught my pants leg and, caught between shadow momentum and that rather embarrassing trip, I skidded across the asphalt again. I landed not far from Hunter and, shocked, dazed, and terrified for the others, my eyes found hers. They were lit with desperation and anger and something I'd just deemed as fear in myself but couldn't label for her. Beneath it, though, was a whole lot of spite and sass I can only describe as _Hunter_.

She screamed again, this time a word. The one I heard was _pateras_, which is indeed Greek, but doesn't translate into a spell and was too arbitrary not to be a product of my headache. Whatever she really said, though, lit the world on fire.

She put that poor house to shame.

Golden energy seemed to spawn out of thin air, warm and blinding and unbelievably _full_. It hit my chest like fifty base drums kicked at once (something that, up until this point, I'd only ever felt from my own magic). My eyes slammed shut but its glow still found a way past my eyelids, and made my skin vibrate. The noise it made was sleek but rough, like metal against metal, but far from unpleasant.

The light grew even hotter, and for a ludicrous moment, I wondered if we'd start another fire.

Then, as quickly as it'd started, the light died out.

My eyes opened on golden dust.

The snakes had not just been disintegrated but blown apart, leaving a carpet of bronze glitter across the lumpy debris. It looked almost red in the light of the fires nearby, though there weren't so many here since the dragon had torn down the house. I gaped in shock at the newly decorated cataclysm.

"Looks as if Khione ate some kindergarten art supplies," I muttered.

"That. Was. Epic!" Brook hooted her approval, stumbling to her one good foot. Moon rushed over from the other side of the street to help her. Dawn and some of the others shook themselves and blinked around in shock.

I waved to her. "Hey! How's your leg?"

She dismissed me with a flick of her hand and pointed to where Nico lay. "I'm fine! Help me with him first. He's pinned."

I got to my feet, leaving a canteen of nectar for Hunter, and ran over to where he was spitting out monster dust with contempt. "Ich! What the heck was that?"

"Hunter. Where are you stuck?" I asked.

"His arm," Annie said helpfully. She was curled beneath his torso and, to me, nothing more than green eyes peering out from golden shadows.

I knelt down to her. "Hey there. You wanna come out so we can get him free?"

"Him and Talking Doggie Two says I have to stay here," Annie protested.

I glanced around the street, and at Brook, who was finally arriving. "Didn't you drop your bear somewhere? Want to look for it?"

"Mr. Cuddles!" she squealed, and wiggled out from beneath Nico, squishing his face with her sneaker in the process. She flaunted over the street and beneath the dying red light of fire. Night yelped a warning to her antics and rushed to keep up.

I looked down at him, then at the massive piece of roofing – wood, shingles, plaster, and whatever the heck else our upwards guardians are composed of – pinning his right arm in place. "How bad?"

"Sprain, scrapes, maybe a couple broken fingers," he said simply. "You? Why do you keep holding your head like that?"

"It's not bad, else she'd be vomiting," Brook sighed as Moon set her down beside his feet. "Don't worry. Bree, grab that end – I'll push up from this one. Nico, you should scoot out instead of just curling your arm in. If there's more damage than you think then we need to keep it as still as possible. One, two, three!"

He got to his hand and knees and scrabbled out, and we let the piece drop. I sat down beside them to be sure that nothing permanent had been done, and thank the gods, they were alright. Brook's ankle could be fixed with some nectar and a spell or two almost immediately. Nico's arm was that ugly yellow color that promises bruises, but he was right in the sense that the worst damage was to his index and middle finger. From what I could tell by her dancing, Annie was perfectly fine. Night had delivered her Mr. Cuddles, and was gentle not to hurt it with his wolf-teeth. She beat him over the head with it for getting it wet.

I left Nico, Brook, and Moon to continue dressing one another's wounds and made my way back to where Hunter had been. Had been, I realized with shock, because I couldn't see her now.

"Hunter?" I called, jogging over. The bottle of nectar I'd left was still screwed shut, and just as full as I'd been before. "Hunter?!"

The world seemed to grow quiet, then. The sirens of fire trucks and crinkle of flame and hiss of the wind and screams of prey and predator alike all faded away. Not even my footsteps made a sound, as hers had, against dust and ash and charcoal.

"Hunter…"

I should have checked her, I realized, the moment the light died. She'd held four massive snakes and possibly a small dragon in time, and then blasted them all to death. Those were two massive spells that, until tonight, I hadn't known she could cast. Something big and stupid like that, I should have known – I should have turned right to her and made sure-

But I hadn't. She was _Hunter_. It didn't register that she might break. Hunter… Hunter never _broke_.

But she was no less human than I. And after… oh, my gods…

There. She was still there, I could see as I got closer, just camouflaged by the dust. Curled beneath it on the ground beside the nectar. I ran over and let my knees buckle and ran my fingers across her face, flicking the glitter aside.

Her skin was so hot that I instantly felt colder. Long eyelashes casting longer shadows down her cheeks, closing off those gleaming eyes. Skin paler than mine. My throat squeezed shut and my hand shook.

"Go entertain the kid," came Brook's voice, the first noise I registered. Moments later I heard footsteps and pawsteps being exchanged. Nico and Moon calling for Annie, Dawn muttering, Brook's lopsided gait coming closer.

Hunter, though, was still silent.

I swallowed thickly as Brook knelt down and leaned in close, a hand on Hunter's throat and an ear to her mouth. "I- I didn't… I should have…"

"Nobody would have thought to. As horrible and selfish as it is," she murmured. She hovered there for an awfully long time before nodding to herself and reaching for the nectar.

I tried to swallow again but now could not. Brook moved smoothly but still trembled, just a bit. I glanced helplessly between them and was caught between hating myself for doing nothing and fearing that_ nothing_ was all I'd be able to do.

What were we supposed to do, anyway? I mean – the city was still burning, monsters still appeared through the flames of houses now and then, and Hunter… Hunter…

Not dead yet, I told myself. And it'd take a lot to get Hunter dead, even if just one inch were between her and the Styx.

I swear, I nearly opened my mouth to ask her what snide remark she was biting back.

While Brook did things I tried not to pay attention to – nectar, half a bottle given through a total of twenty-five sips – I slid my wadded jacket beneath her head and played with her hair, staying out of the way, but searching for something. A noise. A look. The twitch of fingers or small huff of breath.

It wasn't until then, when I could no longer hear her thoughts or sense her mood and she just wasn't there, that I was aware of just how keenly Hunter and I were aware of one another.

My question went unasked.

Arms snaked around me, pulling me back to the fires and the heat and that infernal buzzing. They were gentle but firm and the voice that whispered was flat but to me more sincere than most people can sound. "You know she's still fighting."

I squeezed my brother's hand, and he squeezed back. He understood why I'd still worry, and why I could not speak.

Nausea had indeed set in, but it had nothing to do with the headache.

"You'll have to carry them both," Nico said, now letting me go and taking my bag. His fingers closed on Brook's, but her hand slammed down on his.

"Absolutely not," she bristled. "The city-"

"423 are already dead," Nico said simply. "The city's gone."

"And you'd just let them keep killing people? That number's rising!"

"The Key's not here anymore! It was our only way to stop it! It disappeared with that stupid dragon! And what are you gonna do with Hunter, huh? Gonna leave her here? Give Annabeth a breadcrumb to where we'll be found?"

"_No_! Quit being so morbid, it's not-"

"Guys," I spat, and they fell quiet. We all did, waiting for orders.

Before we broke, Annie burst into giggles and pointed at the dust. "The snakes went BOOM! We can go home now!"

Home.

Nico closed his eyes and ground his teeth. Brook looked at Hunter. I pondered the girl for a moment.

"I can't carry everyone," I said, "but I can take her with us. Nico, you'll have to find some policemen and drop her off. Brook, do you think H – she can…?"

"No choice," Nico sighed roughly, and took Hunter and Brook's bags, too. Those, at least, he could take, and lighten my load. "Don't go far; you'll strain yourself."

I'd have liked, even in the thirty seconds it took for us to prepare for shadow travel – Annie was happy to hold everyone's hand, even Hunter's, but was concerned that Mr. Snuggles only got to hold Nico's – to turn on my iPod. It does not seem practical, I know, because they'd be coming out moments later. But if you could smell the smoke and feel the heat and hear the crackle, the buzz, the screaming, you would not have said so.

oOo

_**Nyx: **__I plan for there to be more action in this book. Much more. Faster paced, preferably no longer than or better even shorter than Rebels._

_**Nic: **__You better start updating faster._

_**Nyx: **__Yeah, yeah, so we're still working on the plot hole we found. It doesn't come in until the next book, but obviously this book is connected to it, so we've got our attention split. This chapter was long, though, so hopefully that helps make up for the delay :) You shall have your updates AT LEAST weekly from here on out._

_**Nic: **__Yeah. It's not like we're BBC or anything._

_**Nyx**__: SHERLOCK! ONE MORE YEAR, GUYS! SEASON FOUR!_

_**Nic**__: MORIARTY!_

_**Nyx**__: Speaking of such, please take time to consider the following:_

_You know what the PJatO fandom lacks? Morbid jokes. The horrible reactions. The feels. The trolls. The awful song parodies that make you cry. Do you know how paranoid I am, waiting to be ambushed with a Nico/Labyrinth/Tartarus version of Amnesia? So we made some examples to get it over with:_

_How does Kronos like his coffee? Lukewarm._

_Are we crazy? May be._

_I was just _shocked_ to find the perfect Christmas present in a junkyard._

_How long did Ethan have to consider his death? …No time at all; he lacked depth perception._

_Did you hear about Kronos's latest evil trick? Ethan fell for it._

_Think you can do better? Show us._


	3. Home

_Disclaimer: So Nic and Nyx still don't own HoO. Or PJatO. We think that, if they did, there would've been some serious massacre at the end. Honestly._

_Review Responses:_

_-We have silenced the authors for this chapter. See the "AN"._

oOo

My dreams were chaos until the field of bones.

I had not seen it in ages, and it had suffered in that time. Not one bone was whole. In fact, the whole place was composed of just splinters and shards smothering the ground.

The bones had been pulled apart but unbroken last time, I recalled. Grey mist obscured the distant horizon in all directions. Somewhere here, there were two piles of bones, delicately sorted, one of a cat skeleton and another an ocelot's-

I concentrated hard on that, on the memories. For a moment, the plane snapped into place, bones still broken but at least there instead of flickering between fire and blackness. The acrid smell of gangrene, too, vanished, and for that one moment – just one – I stood there among the bones again.

But the burden was not just mine to hold.

Nico's memories must not have synchronized with mine, or he recalled them just a moment too early or too late, and with a startled caw from a bird unseen, the world shattered, and we returned to our separate nightmares.

oOo

"Annabeth, we can't. We were seen at that battle. We've known for ages. Annie still thinks this is normal for everyone – at this rate she's safer alone. It's send her to the humans or wait for a Keeper; she isn't staying with us."

"You can't abandon her," Annabeth growled.

I sighed roughly and rolled my eyes. "For the last time, Annabeth – it's probably safer for us to leave her alone. She might… She might even have a few years left. Of normality."

Annabeth glowered and rubbed her forehead, irritated, as usual. "I hope you're not having this conversation in front of her."

"Do I look that stupid? Bree and Brook took her to the cafeteria to lift some breakfast."

"It's seven-thirty, Nico! At night!"

I sighed and tried very, very hard not to give her the look she was giving me. "Yes, we've been on a nocturnal schedule since the search started. We fought for D.C. last night – that means we were up until sunrise, hm?"

"You didn't have to drag her into it!"

"_No,_ we could have let the snake eat her!"

"And releasing her now is inviting the same thing," Annabeth huffed. "I'll send a nearby satyr to pick her up, alright? Keep her until then."

Wordless, I glared.

"Happy?" she spat.

I snarled, but broke eye contact, glancing at the motionless shape on the bed. Beyond Hunter, the hotel window was dark, reminding us that winter's fading grip still lingered.

Annabeth sighed and when she next spoke, she was gentler. "How many people are dead in D.C.?"

"873, give or take ten," I muttered, still attempting to burn a hole in the window.

"…And the Key?"

"We haven't had a chance to discuss it. We're not quite sure what happened or where it's gone."

"Is there any particular reason I'm speaking to you and not Hunter?"

I stiffened, and she seemed to deflate just a little bit. "So that's why you're upset."

When I didn't answer, she sighed and said, "Come back when it's safe to travel. The satyr should arrive there before the night's over – I already had a few poking around D.C." Then she broke the IM's connection and left me in relative silence.

Relative.

I sat back down in the chair by the dark window and waited for the others to return. They'd only gone for breakfast, yes, but Annie… Well, if they could ensure she'd behave up here simply by letting her stretch her legs a little down there, they'd do it. I checked Hunter's temperature, practiced wolf language with Night (who had opted to stay here with me and Dawn), experimented with the chair by hanging off it upside-down, drew the curtains when I began to distrust all that open sight. Pondered on the nightmares.

I wasn't sure when I began to nod off, but that was surely what I was doing by the time I was jolted awake.

"Tired, Daffodil?"

"Nt," I muttered, lifting my head and gazing in her direction. The chair had been situated alongside the bed, so this was not hard. She was gazing at me with a guarded curiosity.

"Oh. Hey," I said, and sat up. "Jeez. Sis nearly had a heart attack. Nectar?"

She sat up smoothly – it was eerie, after the twelve hours she'd spent completely out of it – and reached for the bottle. "How much can I have?"

"Uh… What time is it?"

"Nine."

"Well, Styx. A full glass." I stood and strode over to the door and, after pondering the risk of the peephole's strange magic, cracked it open to survey the hall. Empty.

What was keeping Sis and the others?

I closed the door and went back to Hunter. One worry at a time. If they weren't back by the time she was situated, then I'd go look. Maybe right now, real quick, just to see….

"How are you feeling?" I asked, and if it'd be anyone else there to witness my anxiety, I'd have remained standing. But with Hunter I could sit.

She gave me a glare that was an answer all in itself; if we hadn't disarmed her before leaving her to rest, I'm sure I'd have had her Taser to deal with. "Ask me that again, only more like I'm not dead."

"How do you feel?" I mumbled to the floor.

She snorted and I could_ feel_ the excessive eye roll. "Fine."

If I had spat a lie like that, I'd have been rebuked instantly. Sis would have hit me and she'd do worse. _Arguing _with Hunter, though? I settled for a moment of skeptical eye contact.

She set the empty bottle down. "Groggy. What'd I miss?"

I was about to fill her in, but at that moment I heard footsteps outside, and Annie's curious voice. Hunter did not mind when I answered the door before answering her.

oOo

"That wasn't nice," Annie pouted as we turned into our hall.

"We paid," Brook protested. "It wasn't rude."

"That's not real money."

"Tell that to museums and pawn shops. They'd love a drachma or two."

She scowled and bit roughly into her sandwich. Moon smiled and nudged her gently, keeping her to our side of the corridor.

I listened, mind elsewhere. Nobody was in this hallway and I could hear no mysterious sounds, and so long I monitored that, I was free to ponder. Worry. Imagine.

When we reached the door, we found it cracked. Nico swung it open as soon as I glanced back at him through it.

"Why didn't you use the peephole?" Brook asked as Annie spilled past him and into the room.

Nico dodged his answer by jerking his head back towards the room. I shouldered through the door and peered into the shadow.

There was a flurry of movement from the bed, a windmill action of two arms greeting us. "Hel-lo, my people! Come bask in the glory of me!"

Until you've been in that position, you will never understand the way every last worry dissipates. It's like staying underwater for too long on a dare and suddenly not just finding air but dragging yourself out of the pool entirely; the pressure on your chest and head and shoulders vanishes, and your brain quits repining, and you can breathe for the first time and it's so flawless you vow to never dive again.

"Hunter!" Moon cheered, knocking all of us over on her rush in.

I landed next to Brook, who was shaking with excitement as much as her wolf and up in a heartbeat. There were happy yips and small laughs and Hunter's boisterous cackle. I smiled and listened for a moment, quietly, as I sat up.

Nico caught my eye as I did, and gave a shy smile. The real one, the one slightly off-center, a slight flattening of the lips that for the longest while I'd mistaken for a disapproving look.

I sighed and glanced at the door he'd waited behind the moment we had been noticed. "Worried?"

"Three hours?" he countered, only half joking.

"They had some dogs downstairs. And a little workout gym. Annie liked to play on the exercise mats," I offered.

I could barely wait for his hesitant nod of forgiveness before whipping around and ambushing Hunter, arms squeezed tightly around her shoulders and rocking us both forward and nearly off the bed.

"Oof," she muttered. "Geez, how can you be so fat _and _bony at the same time? Pick one!"

"Oh, _I _need to pick one?" I demanded, rolling off her and onto the mattress. She made a point of rubbing her back. "Why are you so epic _and _stupid and the same time?"

"Stupid is a rude word for brave and selfless," she corrected me.

"Epic sounded about right," Brook agreed. "Dude, did you even _see _the damage you almost died for?"

"The snakes blew up!" Annie giggled, choking Dawn with a hug. The white wolf had a stormy look cropping up in her icy eyes.

Hunter raised an eyebrow. "You mean I've had _C4 powers_ all along and never knew?"

"You didn't know what you were doing?!" Brook yelped, but the scolding tone only just fringed her excitement.

I just sat there, smiling like an idiot. Words… not my forte.

But I still felt a wonderful bursting inside.

"Not a clue," Hunter laughed. "I got mad improv skills."

"That you do," Brook relented.

Hunter grinned wider (somehow) and ruffled her rusty curls. "Of course. How-"

There came a rapping at the door.

At the same time Nico vanished from the corner of the bed where he'd been sitting, the door slammed open and then shut, and two figures barged in. One wielded the sword and the other was squished between him and the wall, the blade at his throat.

"H-h-hey!" yelped the cornered one, hooves clomping nervously on the floor. Annie saw him and fell alarmingly silent.

Nico twisted his sword closer. "You don't speak unless you're told to. Hunter?"

Hunter blinked at him. "Sorry. Our little flower is kinda jumpy. What's your name and why are you here?"

"Little flower?" Nico demanded incredulously.

"Um, I, uh, I'm Grover. Remember?" he whined, and then bleated like a goat. "Annabeth said you had a demigod hostage?"

"Hostage?" Nico asked, now giving his look to Grover.

"I met you on Olympus," Grover said, rearranging his rasta cap. "I, uh, healed the… the daughter of Artemis? And my friend Percy – I know Percy well, we're best buds, promise – he made sure you guys didn't suffer some horrible dust-bunny smite from Zeus? Yeah that was me and my friend. Just, uh, trying to help you remember. Throwing information out there."

"He's a goat!" Annie squealed, tugging on Howl's tail and pointing. Howl made a dramatic dying sound and fell over on top of her, resulting in lots of giggles. Night sighed heavily and turned away from his apprentice.

"Hi," Grover said, now to Nico, waving some very tentative fingers. "I, uh, um, you met me before, too. Only you didn't try to kill me. Maybe not this time, either?"

Nico narrowed his eyes. "Lots of people know we've met Grover. So do lots of monsters."

"Oooh! Uh, I can play a song! On my reed pipes! Want to hear it?" Grover asked.

"Gods, no. Especially not that stupid burrito song you wrote."

"_Enchiladas_!" Grover spat.

Nico, after wiping goat spit from his nose, jerked his hands away and sheathed Mνήμη. "It's Grover. Definitely Grover."

Moon perked up her ears and came forward to sniff him, alongside three other wolves. Grover stumbled hastily away from Nico and then pressed up against the wall again to avoid them. "Uh, um… Hi. C-can I see the demigod?"

"We're trying not to use those words around her," Hunter drawled pointedly.

Grover's face reddened, almost matching his wispy goatee. "Oh! Right! My bad. Um, excuse me, wolves. Goat coming through. Not for eating."

"Goat! Goat!" Annie cheered from beneath Howl, milking the air with her hands. "Goat!"

"It's, uh, Grover. Hey, there," Grover grinned, and knelt at her side. He wore nothing but his reed pipe around his throat and an orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, though it looked as if it'd gone through Tartarus and back. Yet he wore it anyway. Something about its tears matched the small crinkles alongside his eyes when he smiled his widest. "What's your name?"

"Annie!" the girl squealed. Howl made a point of trying to repeat this, to very little success.

Nico sat beside me on the bed again, dark eyes glittering nervously. "We don't know what's happened to her father and step-mother. They were in D.C…"

"All the important people were evacuated before you guys left," Grover said, pretending to strain himself lifting Howl off of Annie. Howl, in turn, gave a dramatic whine and rolled on top of her again.

"Doggie," she laughed, fingers tangling in his fur.

"As far as the citizens, the effort's slower. We've got nymphs and some other satyrs on it," Grover added, wiping wolf drool from his palms. "Annabeth is working with Malcolm and Jason on figuring out what happened. Will's sent two of his best campers to help relief and evacuation, and Clarisse provided their escort. They left as Annabeth talked to me."

"D.C.'s taken, then?" Hunter asked.

"Effectively, yes," I sighed, and hated myself for having to tell her now. Yet not worrying about how she'd take it.

Always for granted, the strength she held. I shook my head vigorously and smiled at her. "But you got us out alive. Man, you should've _seen _it. Gold went _everywhere_. You put Harborfest to shame."

"Haborfest," Brook breathed. "Granny's been asking about us coming back. Maybe we should."

"We can't leave after the trail goes cold," Nico protested. "It's like when someone gets killed; you've got forty-eight hours to-"

"You want to leave while we're on it? Besides, we've wasted twenty-four."

Haborfest was an annual festival native to our latest hometown, Oswego. We had a permanent residence there that we didn't use near as often as our grandparents and school counselors would like.

"You're talking about the K-Key? Like… to the Underworld?" Grover asked, finally wedging Annie free. She smiled and grabbed her teddy bear before taking his hand.

"Stop extending her vocabulary," Hunter snarled.

"Yes, ma'am," Grover squeaked. Then, to Annie, quietly, "Say goodbye to your friends, Annie. And the doggies. You're gonna come with me, okay? We'll find your daddy. Wanna see Daddy?"

"Daddy!" Annie gasped, and quiet suddenly looked to be near tears. "Can he meet Talking Doggie?"

"Talking Doggie likes it here," Dawn said flatly. Howl smiled at her and butted her neck with his head, which she allowed, even came close to returning.

"Talking Doggie Two has a job here," Moon added.

"But…" Annie said, lip trembling.

Nico sighed heavily. "Go, Annie. You're Daddy's worried."

"…Are you sure the snakes won't come back?"

And here I spoke, because I was our best liar. "Positive."

She grinned massively, then. "Then we can all go home! Bye-bye, Talking Doggies! Bye-bye, Hunter! Bye-bye, Brook! Bye-bye, Nico!"

"Yes, bye-bye," Grover chided, leading her towards the door.

She turned to me, though, before they left, and did so with a knowing smile. "Bye-bye, Bree! I like your boyfriend. And his nickname for you." And then they were gone.

Beside me, Nico stiffened.

"Oh, gods," Brook smiled.

"Your _what_?" my brother growled.

I was still shocked to silence, wondering how on earth Annie had mistaken the nickname "Sis" as anything other than "sister", and honestly scared to death of what Nico could do in the five seconds it would take to explain the mistake.

"Uh…" I managed.

"_Who_?! When did this happen?"

At this point, Hunter and Brook gave out into laughs, which flattened my chances of speaking.

He paled. "You two _knew_? Why would – he even has a _nickname_? Why does he have a _nickname_? If someone was messing with you why didn't you say so? Why was I left out of this? You wouldn't – you sure as _hell _aren't doing something you shouldn't be! Are you?! Why else wouldn't I know about this?!"

"Nico-"

"No, you don't get to talk! You're in trouble!" he spat venomously. "I'm eighty-three; I'm old enough to ground you! What have you done?! Did _he _do something to _you_? Did he ask you not to tell me?!"

"You're…. killing us," Brook whined, before gasping and returning to giggles so strained they made no noise.

There is this saying about a friend keeping you out of jail, and a best friend sitting in the cell next to you crowing about your amazing escapade with the most flattering hyperboles to make all the druggies and killers jealous and the warden angry. Hunter falls into that second category. She grasped my shoulder and managed, between her ear-shattering hysterics, "You knew he'd find out some time!"

"_Hunter_!" I raged, whipping around to slap her, magic-fried and energy-dead or not.

She cackled and pointed, helplessly, at Nico's bared teeth and lethal glare.

I turned to him. "You stubborn idiot, if you'd just-"

His hand clamped over my mouth. "Stop! It ends here, understood?! Why would you – no, _no,_ you know _what_? I'm not talking to you. I've decided to give you the silent treatment for a minute."

He raged quietly for sixty seconds. I watched him, quiet and obedient, as he paced back and forth. The wolves, wisely, stayed out of his way. When it was over, nothing seemed to have changed, except for the clenched fists. "Who do I need to kill?" he asked curtly.

I lost it. I pointed at him and laughed, too.

Hey, we'd earned it. And he was being quite endearing.

The look of hurt that flashed across his face made it even better. "What? What's that supposed to mean?! You're _thirteen_! You're not allowed to even classify yourself as _single _yet! And you were _fine _with that last I checked!"

"Well, at least… we know… Annie's really from an Olympian!" Hunter gasped, laughing too hard to even aim straight. She threw a pillow at him and it sailed wide.

Shocked and furious, he snatched it from the air and whirled on her. "_That's _what you're worried about?!"

"How…?" Brook giggled.

Hunter gestured broadly to my brother and I. "She thinks… incest is natural…!"

Nico turned so red and stiff I worried he'd broken his fingers again in catching the pillow, or if he'd spontaneously burst into flames. (Don't give me that look. You know exactly who I'm talking about.)

I smiled helplessly at him and shrugged. "She thought… your nickname…"

"I get it," he huffed, and made what was perhaps the biggest mistake of his life.

He threw the pillow back at Hunter.

Good gods, there is no way to describe how quickly the laugher changed to sheer shocked and silent _terror_.

"Ghost Boy," Hunter drawled. Moon whimpered.

Nico, wisely, dived for cover. The pillow crashed hard into the coffee table, knocking its dead plant on top of him. He cursed and rubbed his head.

"Easy!" I chided, slamming Hunter in the face with the nearest Sealy.

I never could recall exactly what happened next; only that it resulted in me landing roughly on the floor and gasping for breath. She must've held tight to her weapon, too, because not a prayer of retaliation anywhere in sight.

"HAH!" Nico yelled, leaping over me and catching her with the one she'd used to knock the plant over.

"Back!" Brook yelped, and stole the one I'd dropped to thwack him repeatedly until he retreated off the bed. It was to me that he absconded, unfortunately for him, despite all the wisdom he'd had in also holding tight to his pillow.

Hunter tossed me her weapon, and with it I solicited my revenge for the humility and committed treason.

This shattered any sense of rationality and order left in our microcosm; we descended into a delicious and fulfilling savagery. A carefree world in which alliances and similar obligations meant naught, and one was free to pound in the face of whomever they deemed worthy. We were mad with catharsis, and gleefully so.

"Bad! Bad!" Hunter scolded Nico as she chased him off of me and I retreated for the corner nearest the window. The shadows there did nothing to conceal the bright pillow, I found, as a blur of a brunette swooped down from the arm of the chair and knocked it aside.

"No!" I gasped, and stole hers. She lunged for the one on the ground, but not before I gave a victory blow to the shoulders and bolted across the room for the next victim.

"MINE!" Hunter warned Nico off, and caught me halfway across.

I made the mistake of tussling with her again (I earned a nice black eye for that one) and then made for my brother, because I'm sorry, but he was making such a fool of himself chasing around Brook and the wolves that I had to take advantage before someone crueler did.

As I was caught between him and Moon, lost in a flurry of a loose pillowcase, something crashed into my side so that I spilled up and over the table and into the carpet at an angle that left my legs dangling in the air.

"CHARGE!" Brook bellowed, and the battle surged towards Hunter.

I snatched up the pillow she'd thrown and followed.

This was not smart, not on the behalf of anyone, but there was a level of dignity at stake that should never, ever be taken from someone, and I guess never truly could.

The game _hit _quickly became the game _don't get hit_, because our cornered prey sure got angry. Brook flattened Nico with her frantic dodge and still got clipped, which sent her tumbling off onto the carpet. Moon pounced on her then.

"Avenge me!" she wailed.

Nico snarled and threw himself at Hunter's pillow, hardly catching it in time to pin her wrists beneath him.

"Aha!" I yelled, victorious, and caught her across the face.

This was so hilarious, and relieving, to see the shock in her eyes, that I sat there laughing like an idiot. Shaking and too full to not crack my lips in a smile and even point a suicidal finger. Then my brother joined in, still curved over her projectile, and I laughed harder.

Nico gave a warning yelp as she yanked free and, moments later, I was hit square in the chest and sent sprawling not just off the bed but, in a moment of adrenaline-pumped freefall, through the air and straight into the bony excuse of a chair five feet away.

I didn't even get the chance to call "Show-off!" before Nico, too, was punished for his mirth, and went crashing through the window to my left.

"We're on the second floor!" I gasped, rushing over even as I heard him hit the fire escape (because like heck I'd pick a hotel room without one).

Hunter fell backwards onto the now-bare mattress alongside the tangled sheets and laughed, breathless, as if she'd never had a reason to worry.

"Someone probably heard that," Brook giggled.

I looked down at my brother, who sat amid the shattered glass with a smoldering humility in his eyes as he glared back up and dared me to say a word. I didn't, just laughed, and helped him back in. His makeshift splint was still intact, as were his fingers. His shoulder had a small nick in it from the glass, but it was so small it hadn't even stained the aviator's jacket, and no other abrasions could be found.

He held my hands and examined my forearms, searching for cuts that might've happened when I leaned out to help him up. Once satisfied, he gave a small grunt of relief and grinned.

Hunter, at last, was starting to calm down. Her boisterous howls were reduced to drawn-out sighs and gasps, now and then an exhausted chuckle.

We set to work cleaning our mess (there were many torn paper dishes, some squished toothpaste tubes, two fallen lamps, several pillowcases, the covers to the light switch and two electric outlets, the trash that had toppled, and our dirty laundry), playfully tossing its components at one another and always catching them in turn as we waited for some angry suited human to show up. Brook sent an IM to our distant colleague Alex, who agreed to replace the window for a price.

The nearest we came to battle again that night was when my brother pounced on my shoulders and hissed into my ear, "You're still grounded."

oOo

_**Brook: **__This is a stupid idea._

_**Hunter: **__You're stupid._

_**Bree:**__ Guys, hurry. I don't like these two._

_**Nico:**__ They scare me._

_**Hunter:**__ Chicken. They're just two humans. Humans who made some very offensive jokes. You readers didn't laugh at those, right? Right?_

_**Brook:**__ Tell her you didn't laugh._

_**Nico:**__ DON'T LIE OR SHE'LL PUT YOU-_

_**Hunter: **__SILENCE. You're not allowed to tell them about that, remember? That's between you and me. Anyway. ATTENTION READERS! As you can tell, we've located these sadists and taken control of the situation! Fear not! No more awful jokes from those two! No more cliffies! We have saved you all from untold tortures!_

_**Brook:**__ Geez, these cats are fat…_

_**Hunter:**__ Before we decide the method of punishment to be inflicted on these two things fished from the Styx – you guys can vote! – we have some treats for all of those who didn't laugh at our pain! BETTER JOKES!_

_**Nico:**__ No. Stop this now._

_**Hunter:**__ Nico, do you want to be PUNished?_

_**Brook:**__ Hunter, shush. You're talking loud enough to… raise the dead._

_**Hunter:**__ That timing was perfect._

_**Brook:**__ Couldn't tell. I lost my watch. Mean to look for it, but I couldn't find the time…_

_**Hunter: **__Like the time I forgot to memorize the amnesia joke?_

_**Nico:**__ Sis. Stop them._

_**Bree:**__ Guys. Stop it or I'll show you my blade. It's good at erasing my enemies._

_**Nico:**__ Why do you think this is okay?_

_**Brook:**__ Ignore him, guys. He showed up with a pun on insanity on his mind, but then he lost it._

_**Nico:**__ Stop it or I open the closet and let them out._

_**Bree: **__Careful, Nico. Remember how well Hunter wields her Taser? It's stunning._

_**Nico: **__I will kill you._

_**Hunter: **__Aw, c'mon. That joke was killer._

_**Brook: **__I find jokes about potatoes a-peeling._

_**Bree: **__But they're so cheesy! At least when Granny makes them._

_**Nico:**__ Guys._

_**Hunter: **__Oooh, Granny's cooking. That week she tried to go vegetarian was a huge missed steak._

_**Nico:**__ Guys, look at the desk. There's a note where the Altoids can used to be._

_**Hunter:**__ …You let them out, didn't you? Are we gonna have to go through this traitor thing again?_

_**Nico:**__ No! Just read it!_

_**Hunter: **__Fine. It says… "Sorry we offended you. We didn't realize the gravity of the situation."_

And thus the authors have regained control of their characters. For now. Use your puns wisely.


End file.
